


Delay

by alistairweekend



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reunion between Alistair and Fiona that SHOULD have happened in Inquisition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delay

Torchlight flickered along the cracks and grooves in the stone hall, silent save for a quiet echo of light footsteps. They belonged to a man, wringing his hands anxiously as he neared his destination. A thousand thoughts and doubts raced through his mind – he was reluctant to believe what the Inquisitor had told him, and yet he was desperate for it to be true.

She was everything he  _hadn’t_  expected. The first thing being that she was  _alive._  He had been told…

But that meant nothing. He had also been told as a child that if he didn’t behave, the Chasind barbarians would come snatch him out of his bed to be eaten alive. That didn’t make it real.

He had met the woman once before in a tactical meeting, and had noticed the way she seemed to do a double take at him. She had stared at him just long enough for him to consider it odd, then had swiftly turned away as if trying to hide her face.

He hadn’t thought much of it afterwards, until the Inquisitor had approached him with a suggestion that shook him to his core. If what he had been told was correct, it changed everything. And at the same time it changed nothing at all.

And what if it wasn’t true? He would feel like quite the dolt.

He went over in his head what he planned to say. He’d ask her for confirmation, politely. And then…

He reached the door. A hand swept through his blond hair, and the other reached for the handle. He hesitated for a moment, swallowing, before pulling it open. The small figure of an elven woman was hunched over a writing desk, her finger tracing what could have been words on paper or roads on a map. A beautiful mage’s staff leaned against the wall nearby. She grunted in acknowledgement of the door being opened, waiting for whoever it was to state their business.

The human man faltered, his words catching in his throat and mind going blank. Every bit of the dialogue he had so carefully planned out had vanished, leaving him with nothing. His consciousness shouted at him to do something,  _anything._

Finally a single, trembling word escaped his mouth.

“…Mother?”

The woman stiffened at the sound, shoulders visibly tightening and previously splayed palm clenching. The two stood like that, frozen for a small eternity, until she straightened herself. When she turned, the soft glow of the candlelight caught a silver streak in her dark hair, and a hand partially shielded her eyes in a failed attempt to hide their wet gleam. A small, quivering smile adorned her lips. “You sound just like your damn father.”

A rush of raw emotion overtook the man. He should have been angry that he’d never known his mother had been alive this whole time. He should have been disappointed that he’d never had the chance to know her. He should have been surprised that she was it. And yet, he was none of these things. Or maybe he was all of them at once, for he couldn’t describe exactly what he  _was_ feeling.

All Alistair knew was that it was what propelled him to cross the room in a matter of two strides and take the woman in his arms, gripping her with frightening might. Being so petite in stature, Fiona was engulfed by her son.

Her body shook as her tears flowed, and her arms wrapped around him in turn. There was so much she wanted to say.  _I’m sorry. I never wanted this for you. Your father never wanted this for you. Duncan never wanted this for you. I’m so, so sorry._

But all she managed was a broken, “You’re so tall.”

Alistair let out a sharp sound of halted laughter but didn’t let go, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath.

They had a lot of lost time to make up for.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before Inquisition ever came out, but I was amazed at how well it would have fit into canon except for a few words. "Inquisitor" was originally "Warden", but I changed it so it would be more canonically plausible.


End file.
